


03

by mickeym



Series: Great Ficlet Meme of 2004 [3]
Category: Popslash
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Pre-Europe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-13
Updated: 2004-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-09 05:30:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/mickeym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris/Lance, pre-euro.</p>
            </blockquote>





	03

**Author's Note:**

> In January 2004 I participated in a vague sort of meme going around LJ, where people could request ficlets, specifying a pairing/character, and either a scenario, a couple of words, or an idea. There are 33 altogether, across five or six different fandoms (including crossovers), and ranging in rating from G to NC-17.

for trixiesfic

God, he was tired. Scary-tired. He dozed off once at the long light on Belmont, waiting for it to turn green. The car behind him, full of teenagers with nothing better to do but cruise Orlando at the witching hour, honked and shouted obscenities until he startled awake, hit the gas and headed forward. All Chris wanted right at this minute was his bed, and nothing was going to keep him from that.

He stripped off in the bathroom, showered and brushed his teeth, and crept down the hallway, trying not to stub his toes or walk into any walls. The door closed behind him softly, a quiet *snick* swallowed up by the darkness. The first rumblings of a late-night thunderstorm were beginning as he crawled into bed, sparing one wistful glance across the room at the pale blond hair peeping out over Lance's blankets before he pulled his own up over his head and let sleep claim him.

It was a fucking fantastic dream, a hot wet mouth moving over his chest, his neck, tongue stroking over his nipples before dipping lower. Chris moaned and shifted, growled softly when his fingers stroked through soft, silky hair.

Blond hair, he knew as he came awake. He didn't even have to see it. "Lance-"

"Shhh." White teeth flashed in the darkness, a predatory smile Chris knew well enough by now. Easy for him to say, it wasn't his dick being tickled and teased by warm, moist breath through thin cotton shorts. "Just relax, Chris."

"We're gonna get caught, dude-" Sometimes Chris wished he had more willpower. Or less. Something. He groaned low when Lance did that-thing, with his tongue. He wasn't even seventeen years old, for Chrissake. How'd he get so good at giving head? He did it again, a quick flick with the tip of his tongue, dragging it over the slit, and Chris shuddered. "Lance, Jesus."

Thunder rumbled again, loud and ominous, and Chris was glad since it covered his gasp - too loud! - when Lance swallowed him down in one smooth, continuous motion. He bucked and arched and tried to remember he was twenty-four, not fourteen, and he could control himself just a little bit. He wasn't going to come on the first stroke, right? Right.

"Do you, too," he mumbled, fingers teasing over his chest. "Lance-touch yourself." He'd watched Lance jerk off a couple of times; it was probably the hottest thing he'd ever seen. Lance made some sound low in his throat - it vibrated around Chris' dick and he bit his lip and shivered, pushing up toward the sensation. Another low vibration he recognized as laughter, but how since his brain was scrambled now, he didn't know.

He lost himself in the hothotwet of Lance's mouth, eyes closed against the flashes of lightning, seeing streaks of light behind his eyes anyway, but probably not from the storm. The heat inside him increased when one slick finger eased back behind his balls, stroking over the tight muscle. Chris clenched the relaxed and groaned when Lance stroked inside, one finger, then two fucking him slowly, then faster, keeping rhythm with the sucking and swallowing around his dick. He wanted Lance to fuck him, wanted to feel a hardsoft body against his, skin warm and slick with sweat, but it wasn't going to happen tonight. He arched again and again, hand clapped over his mouth so he couldn't scream out loud, and came hard, ears ringing with the thunder pealing overhead, lightning zig-zagging down his spine like the streaks outside.

He's still tingling, body sparking pleasantly, when Lance shifts up over him, hand already wrapping around himself. Chris watches Lance's face go lax with pleasure, watches the shivers ripple up and down his body as he strokes himself. Not slow or easy, but quick and almost-rough; Lance is more than ready, from the sheen of sweat glistening on his skin in the faint light in the room. Chris reaches out and cups Lance's balls, rolls and fondles them while Lance strokes, and he feels his own toes curl when Lance draws in a deep breath and holds it, body shaking as he comes, the warm splatters hitting Chris' belly and chest in sticky drops.

They cuddle together afterward until breathing slows, evens out, and then Chris fishes under his pillow for the small package of babywipes he stashed there, against stolen moments like this. Lance shivers when he drawers the cool damp wipe over him, and Chris kisses him slowly, gently at first, then deeper, falling into him as they tangle together again.

He'll still be tired in the morning, but it's so worth it, he can't really bring himself to care.

~fin~


End file.
